


No Justice, No Peace

by chimaeracabra



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Officer Barnes, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7536304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Barnes grapples with the move to quit his job in light of all the national police murders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Justice, No Peace

**Author's Note:**

> One of my friends told me not to be a "badge bunny" ages ago when we were watching End of Watch. At the time, I was hyper obsessed with Jake Gyllenhaal's performances in that movie and in Prisoners. Come on, though. Sometimes a man in uniform is so damn sexy! On top of that, I have just been driven crazy seeing endless breaking news stories about all the cops being targeted and assassinated in response to the BAD COPS having killed totally innocent people. While I can't agree with police brutality, I feel for the victims and families of the GOOD people who do the RIGHT things with their power as law enforcement officials. Come on, America. I can feel an all out war coming on and it's terrifying. Also, I've gone shooting once with one of my guy friends who wants to join the military. I don't condone gun violence and would never want to shoot a living thing/person, but shooting at inanimate objects is pretty fun.  
> Anyway, thinking about police officers so much reminded me that that's what I would picture Bucky doing if he wasn't his Winter Soldier/ex-WS self.

            She isn't usually out of bed this early on a weekday. As James clips his badge onto the front chest pocket of his dark blue uniform, he grins without teeth, watching Paige's hands snake up his torso and across his chest. She hugs him tightly from behind, inhaling deeply and pressing her nose into his spine.

            "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to get your hands off the merchandise," Bucky says in a low, deep voice, calmly. She'd only seen him arrest someone once, and his voice gives her the chills. It's the exact same voice he'd used when reading her ex his Miranda Rights.  She giggles, and Bucky stares at himself blushing in the mirror, trying to keep a straight face. Paige reaches for his gun in the holster at his waist.

            "999—officer down. I repeat, _officer down_ ," Bucky mutters jokingly, reveling in the sensation of his wife's hands travelling around his waist.

            "Boy…if I had known it was _this_ easy to take an officer out, I'd have committed the crime years ago," Paige says seductively. Bucky can tell from her voice that she's half awake. When she begins to touch his gun again, he turns around, grasping her wrists.

            "Whatcha doin' there, ma'am?" he asks, cocking a brow. Paige looks up into his lively blue eyes and can't tell whether he's joking or not. Probably not; he doesn't let her just touch his gun…not _that_ one, at least. He smirks sideways, pulling her up so that her legs wrap around his waist. She giggles tiredly, burying her face in his neck, the skin smooth and scented from a fresh shave.

            "Baby, you promised you'd take me shooting again by the summer. It's _July_ , almost a full year since the first time," Paige complains sleepily. Bucky holds onto her, furrowing his brows. For some reason, he's sure that Paige didn't wake up this early just to complain to him that he hasn't taken her to the shooting range in over a year. Bucky steps towards the bed and carefully places his wife there. Looking at her half naked, succulent cleavage popping out of a slanted cut off t-shirt, he fights the urge to kick off his uniform and crawl back into bed. He pushes the hair out of her face.

            "That's not why you got up this early to talk to me," he says, his voice having changed back to its usual sweet, gentle tone. The smile fades from Paige's face as she stares through Bucky's crotch where he's standing in front of her. He sighs, kneeling in front of her so that she's looking down at him when he takes her beautiful face into both hands.

            "I _promise_ you, Paige…I'm gonna be home real soon—"

            "James, _please_ ," she whispers. He sighs, sitting up to his full height while on his knees. He grips Paige's hands.

            "Baby, it's not something that happens every day—"

            "Pretty much, James," Paige retorts, her eyes beginning to well up for the tenth time since he got home late the other night while she'd been waiting up for him, staring at all the news stories and pacing the hall anxiously.

            "There's basically a shooting _every day,_ Bucky!"

            "I told you, I've been through _so_ , _so_ much worse, Paige. And you know, since all these awful attacks, the force all across the nation is re-evaluating protecting themselves, training—"

            "But it could _still_ happen," Paige says, meeting his eyes at last, fear and rage mixed up inside her. Bucky's cool metallic hand rests on her knee. He rubs the cap with his thumb, contemplating quietly. He closes his eyes and kisses Paige's knee, exhaling a gust of air there that makes Paige wet. She sighs, pushing her hands through his hair, and out of the pony tail he had tied it in.

            "You can't be sure," she says. She's been saying the same thing for a while now. Every time the news comes on it seems there's another shooting. Bucky can't understand the state of things, the severity. It doesn't seem like it was happening to this extent back in his day. But even so, he never quite gets nervous, until he sees what it does to his wife.

            "Stop watching the news," Bucky says gently, wrapping his arms around her securely, as if he can hold her together.

            "'Cause I'm gonna come home to you, _every day_ , like I've been doing for a year…don't worry."

When her face twists up in its tell tale frown, he moves in to hug her tight.

            "I'm gonna be late for this meeting—I really gotta go. I'll call you on my lunch break, okay?" Paige sniffling makes him feel guilty for even putting that badge back on. She's silent.

            "Okay, Paige?" He wipes her yes, watches them widen like she thinks it's the last time she'll ever see him, her hands clutching his wrists and trembling.

            "Don't do that," he whispers as comfortingly as he can.

            "It's gonna be you and me, crawling into that bed again tonight, just like we do every night. I'm not gonna leave you."

He kisses her. When he stands and she crosses her arms with some frustration, closes her eyes, he really doesn't want to leave.

            "Come on, doll. Everything's going to be okay."

Bucky doesn't know how to tell her not to worry anymore. He'd made it routine to call her after he made it to work, at lunch, and on the way home. It kills him to hear her sigh a sigh of relief every time she picks up the phone. Sometimes, she'd tell him all about the new police murders she heard of in some other state and beg him to quit his job. He doesn't want to fight her about it, but the guilt has begun to eat him up inside.

            As Bucky pulls the sheet over his wife's shoulder, kissing her cheek again, the guilt appears to make his feet heavier. Like he can't move. But he makes it out the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the front door, but not before making damn sure that everything is locked. If anything, he'd only begun to worry more about _Paige's_ safety; maybe there was some scumbag he arrested a couple times who found out where he lived and wanted to get back at him. The Rottweiler sleeping in his living room and alarm system he'd had set up months ago give him a semblance of comfort as he pulls his car keys from his pocket. But as he remembers that the dog only belongs to him now because his former partner was killed in the line of duty half a year prior, he pauses in backing out of the driveway. Bucky swears he catches a glimpse of Paige standing at the bedroom window as he starts down the street.

           

            "Wife let you leave the house on _time_?" Bucky's partner asks, giggling as he pours himself a cup of coffee. Bucky rolls his eyes, spitting out the three pieces of gum he'd been chewing anxiously all the way to work.

            "Don't give me that, Phil," Bucky sighs, "It ain't funny anymore. The woman is scared to death since Baton Rouge _yesterday_." Bucky's glare causes Philip to shut his trap and swallow hard. Bucky pulls open the top right drawer at his desk, looking for the small bottle of vodka he sometimes keeps in there.

            "Sorry, man. I wasn't—"

            "Just…quit joking. It's serious, Phil…aren't you supposed to be in the fucking conference room, anyway?" Bucky asks, growing agitated that the alcohol appears to be gone. He tries to remember when he finished it. Deciding that it's not really worth it, anyway, considering that the serum he'd been given decades ago makes it impossible for him to get drunk, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to text Paige and tell her he's about to go into a meeting.

            "Was actually waiting for _you_ ," Phil says, crossing his arms after placing the cup of coffee he'd poured on Bucky's desk. Bucky cock's a brow.

            "Well, let's go," Phil states, turning on his heel. Bucky already knows that there's going to be more talk of safety techniques, crisis control, and the like. He wonders sometimes how he made it to his age. A single shot to the head from a sniper could probably as easily have taken him out as it did those three officers Sunday morning in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He figures that his wife is a great reminder that he's not invincible. He places his phone in his back pocket, calling after Phil to thank him for the coffee as he follows suit.

            He already has Steve lined up to go by and check on Paige if he has to work late, hoping that'll keep her from freaking out so much. With a pang of stupidity, James realizes that the last thing Paige will probably want is to see his best friend at their doorstep past five o'clock. She might get the idea that Steve is there just to deliver news that he'd been shot and faint as soon as she opens the door. The vibration of his phone in his pocket alerts him to the fact that Paige has responded to his text. He checks it once more to find that she had wished him a good day before shoving the device back into hiding and ducking into the conference room.

 

            Phil is more annoying than his previous partner, Garrett. Bucky can't decide whether to keep up the small talk or just tell the guy to shut up. At the very least, Phil hasn't made any more stupid comments about Paige's worrying, so Bucky figures he'll survive the shift as he turns down the same street they get a call from nearly every week. Turning down this street makes Bucky's skin crawl; the domestic violence calls make him the sickest. They constantly remind him of the night he saved Paige from her abusive ex. He realizes again, as he does almost every morning, why he doesn't want to quit the job. He thinks about all the Paiges he'll never be able to save if he turns his badge in now just because the original is scared to death for him. He can't bring himself to understand why some huge guy has to be beating on his wife every day instead of picking on a dude his own size.

            Before Bucky knows it, Phil has the bastard handcuffed on the lawn, ready to be taken in. Mrs. True had managed to lock herself with her cell phone in the attic long enough to get ahold of the police. As Bucky helps the frail, bruised woman down from her hiding place, he's just about brought to tears. This time, Mr. True isn't going to make bail. Bucky will make sure of it. His stern face driving Mr. True down to the station is hard enough that Phil doesn't say a word, except to answer the page that comes through every now and again. Sometimes, Bucky is glad that the sight of his arm alone is enough to make the men in the back seat hold their tongues.

 

            Just before noon, Bucky sits at his desk, unable to focus on a cold turkey sandwich. He's been texting Paige all about his day, telling her very little details about the horrors he sees. He makes it out to be much less awful than it really is. Despite how awful it is, he has yet to meet something that he can't handle. As he'd told Paige, he'd been through _much_ , _much_ worse. He knows that it's hard for her to believe, because he just can't  bring himself to tell her each and every _exact_ detail of his past. He sighs and closes his eyes.

            "Workin' hard, or hardly workin'?"

The sound of Steve's voice causes Bucky to momentarily lose balance in his tilted chair, his feet jumping atop his desk. Steve laughs as Bucky steadies himself.

            "Where the fuck did you come from?" Bucky asks, turning his head left to right.

            "Thought I'd just drop in. You're on lunch right—?"

            "I know what you're really doing here, but I told _you_ to check on my wife, not to be checking on _me_ so you  can report back to her." Bucky fights a smile as Steve shrugs like he doesn't know anything, stepping closer to lean against Bucky's desk. Bucky takes another bite of his sandwich before throwing it in the trash. Steve stares at the discarded food, and then back at Bucky with disbelief. He knows full well that it's nothing like Bucky Barnes to just say no to a perfectly good lunch. Steve crosses his arms.

            "What?" Bucky asks with some frustration.

            "I really don't want to get in between a man and his woman, but—"

Bucky rolls his eyes, leaning forward to rest his hands atop his desk.

            "—Then don't—"

            "You ought to listen to your wife…Ya hear about Baton Rouge?" Steve asks carefully, cocking a brow.

            "…Aren't you supposed to be out avenging?" Bucky asks half sarcastically with an elusive smile, gesturing off into the distance. Steve sighs.

            "Come on, Buck, I'm serious. I just dropped by your place—Paige is a _mess_ —"

            "I told you to check on her _after_ five—if I'm working late!"

            "That's not the point and you know it."

Bucky scoffs, "Steve, Paige takes the summers off. _All_ she has time to do this season is sit at home and let the news make her crazy. I'm sure the fact that she's pregnant, and those hormones make broads go _nuts_ —"

            "I'm _serious_ ," Steve says. Bucky shuts up a moment. He sighs, standing to be at the Captain's height.

            "I told her to stop watching the fuckin' news. It's like…a guilt trip every day that I come in here. Not to mention all the stress she's putting on the baby, worrying until she's blue in the face," Bucky says, his voice faltering to remorse. Steve places a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder.

            "Look, I bet you're right about the hormones," Steve says jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, gently shaking Bucky's shoulder a moment, "But why don't you really think about coming to work with me and the team—?"

            "I told you before, it's a conflict of interest, Steve. No offense—I think what you do is great…but I also felt great when I threw Paige's ex in a cell."

Steve backs down a moment.

            "…So, why did you stop by my place before you came here?"

            "Part of me was hoping you'd be home."

Bucky cocks a brow knowingly. Steve caves, confessing, " _And_ to tell Paige that you had me coming over so much to make sure she's not watching the news while she waits for you to get home."

Bucky can't help but grin.

            "Listen, it's really not that unrealistic that she's feeling the way she's feeling."

            "…I _know_. I know. Am I an asshole for continuing to walk through those doors every day?" Bucky asks. Steve's lips part, and Bucky waits with anticipation to hear what he has to say. But an immense _boom_ renders Bucky deaf. He can't tell up from down until he finds Steve hovering over him, his face looking sooty, almost as if he'd just slipped down a chimney. Bucky doesn't feel the splintered leg of a chair poking through his flesh arm until Steve tries to help him up. The pain catches Bucky off guard, and he doesn't hear Steve's voice calling his name. When he looks, he wishes he hadn't. The roof above appears to missing in certain places. In others, it's simply on fire. Steve finally pulls Bucky to his feet. His legs feel like jelly beneath him as he starts towards a flaming, massive hole where a set of revolving doors used to be.

            Even in the haziness of having hit his head somewhere, Bucky can tell that the lady at the front desk is long gone, a sooty support beam broken nearby. As soon as Steve helps Bucky out and to the other side of the street where people are looking on in panic, Bucky passes out.

           

            The sensation of something warm at his side comforts Bucky. When he looks to find Paige apparently asleep, her head resting on his metallic shoulder, he knows something horrible happened. When he attempts to touch her with his flesh arm, a restraining and painful sensation greets him.

            "Ahhh," he winces, under his breath. He's been in plenty of pain before, and doesn't need to see the injury to know how bad it is. The cast on his arm is holding it steady.

            "Ahhh," he strains again quietly, not wanting to wake Paige. He wants to just run his fingers through her hair to let her know he's alright. When he realizes how many tissues are littering the space between herself and his metal arm, he wonders how long he's been out. He catches sight of Steve, leaning back, sitting up straight on a couch nearby with a couple of stitches on his forehead. His black shirt is riddled with holes, almost like Swiss cheese. He looks to be sleeping, and just a little bit bruised, but then his eyes open and he looks over at Bucky. Bucky mouths a few words to him without making a sound. Steve stands and despite his massive stature, soundlessly steps towards the bed. He gently picks Paige up and places her on the couch where he'd been sitting. Bucky is surprised when Steve winces himself, rubbing his shoulder blade a moment.

            Steve leans in, and speaks quietly enough that he won't wake Paige, but loud enough that Bucky can hear. Bucky catches a glimpse of the window to find that it's dark outside.

            "Someone bombed the police station. Suspicious mail carrier came in—took off just seconds before it went off. A couple of patrol cars got blown, too. That's what made the impact so large," Steve explains, pausing to turn back and make sure that Paige is still sleeping. Thinking to reach for the tissues dampened with his wife's tears, Bucky forgets about his injured arm, and winces again, this time louder.

            "Stop moving," Steve demands sharply, trying to keep his voice down, "The nurse was just in here to give you morphine not more than half an hour ago."

            "Well, the shit's already wearing off," Bucky explains through gritted teeth,

            "I…we were told you're lucky they didn't have to _amputate_ , Bucky," Steve explains, his eyes full of worry.

            "And if I hadn't decided to show up when I did—"

            "How many?" Bucky asks, closing his eyes slowly. Steve sighs.

            "You don't need to know that now—"

            "Steve," Bucky presses. Steve sighs.

            "Everyone on the first floor, except the two of us." Bucky's heart drops, the news seeming to intensify his pain.

            "Three on the second floor," Steve continues, somewhat reluctantly, "A number injured. One pedestrian—"

            " _Fuck_ —Phil," Bucky says out loud, sitting up. The sudden motion causes him so much agony that he just about screams. Paige shoots up from slumber at the noise.

            "No—he's down the hall—he's _fine_ ," Steve reassures him. For a moment, Paige looks totally disoriented, like she doesn't know where she is, before she fixes her eyes on Bucky, and trips getting up to meet him. Steve helps her up, promising her that Bucky is fine before calling loudly for a nurse.

            "No, I-I'm alright, baby," Bucky stammers, barely able to form a coherent sentence. He watches Steve trying to calm her down. She covers her mouth with both hands as a nurse makes her way back into the room.

            "I-I'm fine," Bucky mutters, "Just in pain," he exhales, trying to suck in a deep breath.

            "We'll have to give you some more," the nurse informs. Bucky dreads the serum for fucking with his metabolism. Having calmed down a bit, Paige stands at the foot of the bed, watching the nurse administer more drugs via Bucky's I.V. Her hands continue to cover her mouth.

            "I'm alright, sweety," Bucky whispers, barely able to speak at this point. Paige runs into the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door. The familiar sound of her retching meets Bucky's ears. The nurse glances towards the restroom with concern.

            "I'm alright, baby," Bucky calls quietly from the room. Steve sighs, grabbing a bottle of water off the table and starting towards the restroom. Bucky sighs, hating himself.

            "You know, hun, it helps to suck on some ginger," the nurse explains to Bucky. He smiles weakly.

            "I can't imagine what she's going through. You two are lucky. It's been all over the news for hours…She was sure she was about to be a single mother. Thank God you're alright."

Bucky's heart skips a beat. Did it really have to take a perfect stranger to get the message through his thick skull? Steve comes out of the bathroom, without the water bottle, closing the door behind him.

            "I know she's pregnant and I'm no doctor, but I think she should see one. She's been throwing up since she got here," Steve explains to the nurse.

            "I'll see what I can do," she says, pressuring Bucky to lie back down. He hates hospital gowns, staring at his injured body with regret. He takes a deep breath, gently positioning himself to be as comfortable as possible.

            "Phil," Bucky says.

            "Down the hall. Lucky he only broke a leg," Steve explains. Bucky's eyes widen then.

            "What's wrong?" Steve asks as he searches the room wildly. Bucky spots the remote control on the table. He jabs at it with one metallic digit. Steve retrieves it for him.

            "Buck, it's really not gonna help to keep—"

But to Steve's surprise, Bucky turns off the muted TV.

            "Steve, open that window," Bucky says, nodding in its direction.

            "What?"

            "I said open the goddamn window," Bucky repeats. Steve doesn't bother to ask why. He pulls it open and watches Bucky throw the remote straight out. He doesn't have to ask why as he hurries to close it when Paige steps out of the bathroom, looking green around the gills. Bucky grins at her.

            "…Are you _kidding_ me?" she asks calmly. Bucky can feel her rage from a few feet away.

            "Come on. You're gonna make me sit here all by myself while I'm hurt?" Bucky asks half jokingly. Paige sighs and sits in the same spot she was sleeping in moments ago. Bucky kisses her forehead, but she won't stop staring at his arm in a cast in horror. She's never seen him look quite this vulnerable.

            "I'm sorry," Bucky says genuinely.

For a moment, all Paige does is shake her head and hold back tears.

            "I'm turning in my badge, my gun—all of it—as soon as I get out of here," Bucky promises, caressing her shoulder. Paige is silent.

            "Come here," Bucky begs, "You're not gonna make me lie here all alone, are you?" She rests in his metal arm.

            "Well…good news is, I'm hiring," Steve says. Amazingly, this lightens the mood.


End file.
